


Survival

by Trixy_BuenaSuerte



Series: Preludes, Prologues, and Prefaces that Might One Day be More [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Crack, Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:50:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3392402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trixy_BuenaSuerte/pseuds/Trixy_BuenaSuerte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A girl who's lost it all, a man who's lost his baby brother. </p><p>When they meet sparks fly <em>(and not the good kind)</em> and when the Governor's had just about enough of them they have to go on the run. </p><p>And what better place to run to than the Prison?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survival

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously this one has more development than the others. The reason behind that is because this one actually has three chapters for it already written, it just doesn't have an ending or a plot...
> 
> So that's why it's here and when I figure out a plot for it I'll move it out and finish it.

**Prologue**

The world rushes by me in a blur of various shades of green. Pants tumble from my lips but other than my labor breath the sound of my feet rustling the fallen leaves are the only sounds I can hear as I run. The groans and grunts behind me are too low for me to hear over my own noise but I can tell they're closing in on me. I can feel it and panic drives me to run faster even though it's a lost cause. I race on though and don't stop even as I feel my legs threatening to give out from under me.

Fear drives me on when panic fails but I know that soon enough I won't be able to go on any longer as harsh coughs rattle through me.

I can't believe I'm running through the woods in the middle of fucking winter but then again nothing is unbelievable anymore. Not since the dead have risen. Can  _you_  believe it? Dead people coming back to life just shouldn't happen and the reason why is because they seem to return with insatiable munchies. They could eat a whole cow and keep going. Nothing short of a bullet can stop them now and that's where everything goes to absolute shit.

I don't have a gun and those freaks, the living dead, are on my trail and closing in quickly.

But the icing on this shit cake, what really brings this over the top is that I'm sick. That's right, I've got a cold that would bring Jesus Christ to his knees and I'm honestly surprised that I've managed to keep running for this long. Maybe God is still out there but I highly doubt it because God wouldn't let this happen. He wouldn't let million if not billions of people die such horrible deaths only to be brought back as ravenous monsters.

When my legs finally collapse out from under me, I can't help but think that God might just have heard my last thoughts. Nice to know the big guy up stairs will take me out simply because I've called it like I'd seen it.

I close my eyes as I wait for my inevitable death. It'll be horribly painful, I know, but I just can't keep going anymore. I'm tired, so fucking tired and I have every right to be. I've been running through these fucking woods for who knows how long. I don't even know where I am anymore. I could be in fucking Canada and I wouldn't even know it. Months of running without directions does that to you.

Especially if it's in the  _fucking_  woods.

Though being torn apart by the living dead sure as hell isn't a peaceful way to go but I don't think anyone has gone peacefully since the outbreak started but those few that have are lucky sons of bitches. Truly lucky and I envy them like you wouldn't believe.

It takes me awhile to realize that I should have become walker chow at least three minutes ago and when I finally do realize it I shoot up. There isn't a walker in sight and I can feel my eyebrows drawing together in confusion just as I spot a man in the distance. He stands with his back to me and in my confusion it takes me awhile to realize he's beating a walker with his bare hand or what should have been his hand…

As he raises his arm I see what little light filters in through the thick vegetation glint off the metal wrapped around the spot his hand should be and I watch in morbid fascination as he beats the walker in his arms to death. His hair is cropped short and I can tell it's graying as the sunlight shines on him. As I watch I hope it's a trick of the same light and he's not really as big as he seems.

Even from a distance I know he'll tower over me.

Everything seems to become quieter than it already is when he finally drops the now truly dead walker and turns towards me. I lock up in fear as his blue eyes pierce into me. In this post apocalyptic world men only need women for one thing and the simple thought of why this complete stranger saved me for has me turning on my heel and sprinting away. Or at least I would have sprinted away if my legs didn't feel like noodles in the first place.

I end up sprawled on the floor again as my legs gives out on me on the first step. A disgruntled huff leaves me as I collide with the floor and I curse my poor stamina even though I've been running for at least two hours straight. After months of constantly being on the move I normally wouldn't have been surprised I'd run for this long if not for the nasty cold I've got.

The man stomps towards my collapse form as soon as I hit the ground and once again I resign myself to my fate as I find myself floating in the dark abyss of exhaustion because, like I've said before:

I'm so fucking  _tired_.


End file.
